


Order Up!

by mugsandpugs



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cashier Wylan, F/M, Humor, Line cook Matthias, M/M, Waitress Inej, restaurant AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-04 08:09:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11551083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mugsandpugs/pseuds/mugsandpugs
Summary: INCOMPLETE AND DISCONTINUED"How does one discredit an independent  restaurant?" Kaz asked."Slander them on the internet?" Nina suggested."Have a scandalous affair with the cute cashier boy?" Jesper wondered."No," said Kaz. "To really destroy them, we need to start a more successful restaurant in the same neighborhood."Or, Wylan, Inej, and Matthias work at the Kaelish Prince, a popular local hangout, for their unrelenting boss Pekka Rollins. With a grudge to settle, foodies Kaz, Nina, and Jesper start the battle of the brands by opening a nearby bar. Things escalate quickly.





	1. A La Mode

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our story begins!

Wylan Van Eck sprinted from the bus station, cramming his lion-ear headband over his springy orange curls as he raced past post offices and call centers, bistros and residential neighborhoods. A glance at his plastic watch had him groaning in agonized stress. He put on a new burst of speed. _I'm so screwed,_ he thought miserably, even as he buckled his belt through the loops of his green uniform pants, feeling the cheap, tufted, faux-fur tail thump his thigh with every step. _So, so screwed._

Stress flared into outright panic when he finally reached the Kaelish Prince where Bartley, the unmistakable, eleven-story-high metallic leprechaun affixed to the roof, leered down at the street below. Wylan groaned again as he saw how the line of impatient patrons wrapped halfway around the block. 

"My children and I have been waiting for half an hour, young man! I'm posting this unacceptable service on Yelp," someone complained as the out-of-breath Wylan skidded to a halt and sucked in great lungfulls of air, already feeling the pit stains forming. Inej was going to _kill_ him. 

Sure enough, as he slipped in through the front doors (the recorded jingle of falling coins that accompanied the door opening had been haunting his nightmares for months now), she shot him a livid glance from where she worked his cash register. She also fulfilled his jobs of mixing milkshakes and pouring softdrinks, all the while doing her _own_ job of taking treys to tables as fast as Matthias dinged the ready bell. 

"I'm so, so sorry," he whispered in her ear as he reached around her narrow waist to rapidly clock in. "My bus was late- I know, I _know_ the morning cashier left ages ago." 

He took over the register as the next customer approached. The man stared at the wall-mounted menu behind Wylan for several long minutes, as though he'd not been in line long enough to decide what he wanted. "Ummm..." he said indecisively. "What's good here?" 

Wylan forced his best customer-service smile onto his freckled face and rattled off a handful of the menu's items in order of what was easiest for Matthias to make, but the man didn't seem convinced. Wylan gave a few other options, and then more. This carried on for close to four minutes before the man decided on a soda. After Wylan had poured it, he changed his mind. "A _diet_ soda," he declared, seeming pleased that he'd finally come to a verdict. 

And so his workday commenced. It was close to three hours before the lunch rush finally died down, with Wylan punching buttons on the register by route memory- he was as fast as any literate cashier from stubborn determination and a lot of practice. He mixed Shamrock shakes, answered the phone when it occasionally rang- no, they did not do delivery; yes, they had gluten-free menu options; no, patrons would not be pinched for not wearing green, ha ha- and clapped Matthias on the back when he had to dart into the walk-in refrigerator for cheesecake and cookies. He watched in satisfaction as their Styrofoam tip cup gradually filled with quarters and dimes. If they were lucky, he and Inej would be able to afford dinner for once. 

Inej cheered when the restaurant finally cleared, arms stretched above her head in brief jubilation. After cleanup, they'd have some peace before the dinner rush began. "Good job, guys," she called, loud enough for Matthias to hear. Through the window they saw him wiggle his spatula in a more subdued, _"Woo-hoo."_

Wylan and Inej cleared tabletops, took out the trash, and restocked napkins and straws while Matthias scraped the worst of the grease from his fryer and mopped the now-black footprints off the kitchen floor. They silently worked on cleaning the bathroom, then collapsed in a booth together, sharing a bottle of water. 

"My back aches," Inej grumbled, rolling her shoulders. 

"Yeah, my feet are killing me," Wylan sighed, stretching his legs out. 

Matthias, the only one not decked out in emerald green, said nothing. He was generally taciturn, but the way he picked at the fresh burn on his wrist suggested it was bothering him, too. 

_"Pekka_ come in yet?" Wylan tried not to say the name with a sneer in his voice. Tried. 

Inej shook her head. "Haven't seen him yet." 

She, perhaps more than any of the afternoon-shift trio, had the most reason to be relieved their boss seldom stopped by more than once or twice a day. Wylan frowned and nuzzled gently into her shoulder, and she brought a hand around to pat his hair. 

The mechanical coin-jingle sound of the door opening caused them all to cringe a little before once more donning their respective customer-welcoming smiles. Three people strode in, walking with confidence seldom seen outside of red carpets or catwalks, and the employees of the Kaelish Prince rose from their booth to greet them. 

* * *

Kaz lingered slightly behind Nina and Jesper, letting their tall frames, bright clothes, and loud personalities divert attention from him as he surveyed the potential meeting place for future clients, studying all exit points, security cameras, busy hours, and, most importantly, employees. 

The interior was decorated with heavily saturated green and white tiles, the tabletops each shaped and colored like a cartoon lion's face. The lights were the too-bright fluorescents of all fast food joints, generic pop songs played on a loop over the crackly speakers, and the vinegary smell of ketchup permeated the air. It was so benignly, marketably cheerful that nobody would expect shady business to be conducted in here. It was perfect. 

Jesper and Nina crowded the front counter and, because it was on Kaz's dime, gleefully ordered half the menu between them. Jesper was flirting outrageously with the young cashier, who's fair freckled skin colored a deeper red with every passing word. It clashed awfully with his vibrant orange hair, and Jesper's icy eyes crinkled in silent laughter, his straight teeth, stark white against his dark skin, flashing in a shark's grin. 

Nina lightly punched his arm. "Be nice," she told her friend sternly. Her lipstick was very red and very shiny on her full mouth, her yellow crop-top, denim shorts, and gladiator sandals accentuating her voluptuous frame and miles of dewy, sunkissed skin. If Jesper was a shark, she was a lion's mane jellyfish. "He's just a kid." 

"I'm nineteen," piped the cashier defensively. Then he ducked his head, embarrassed at the outburst. "Uh, miss." 

His nametag read _Wylan._

"Of course you are, honey. Can I get the Oreo cheesecake with that? No, the peanut-butter chocolate. Actually, make that both." 

He typed in the order without so much as glancing at the register. "Anything else?" 

"Well, I'd ask for your number, but I don't think it's on the menu," Jesper purred. Nina elbowed him sharply in the ribs as Wylan stammered helplessly. Kaz withdrew his wallet and counted out the correct number of bills and, pouncing fast, Jesper seized an extra fifty to push into the tip cup. 

"For being such a sunshine on this dreary day," he winked devilishly at Wylan and went off to find them a seat.

Kaz sank down in the booth opposite Jesper, whom Nina was shoving with her hip in order to take the aisle seat. "Fahey," he said, and though he spoke quietly, his tone immediately subdued the other two. "If you ever put your hand in my wallet again, I'm going to pay the tab with your kidneys. Do you understand?" He waited for his words to sink in. "Also, this is not the seat I requested." 

Jesper's serious expression relaxed into his customary toothy grin after only a moment. "Sure, sure. If we'd let you pick, we would be sitting in that shadowy corner booth, mister I-Am-the-Night Brekker." 

Kaz glowered. That he was correct in predicting his preferred seating choice just annoyed him further. "Fahey-" he said warningly. 

Jesper sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. No more messing with Kaz." 

A thin slip of a woman carrying two laden trays approached their table. She was wearing a green uniform with childish capped sleeves and a white Peter Pan collar. The dress was so short that she likely struggled to sit down in it. White bobby socks lead to clunky black heels with gold buckles, and her waitress' nametag read _Inej._

"Here you are," she said, setting the trays heaped with burgers, hot dogs, drinks and desserts before them. The smile she flashed looked glassy-eyed and absent. 

"Thanks," Nina chirruped. "I like your hair." 

Inej's long dark hair had been plaited in a complicated braid down her back; a single gold thread had been painstakingly tied to one strand and it flashed in and out of the braid, glinting when it caught the light. A hint of life flashed in her dark eyes, and for just a moment her smile turned genuine. "Thank you." 

As she returned to the kitchens, Kaz's eyes were drawn to her left foot, which fell just a little heavier than her right. There was a distinct lump in her sock. 

"Will you quit staring at her?" Nina hissed. "God, and I thought Jesper was being creepy." 

"I'm not staring at _her,"_ Kaz replied. "I'm just wondering why I hired you two if you're both too unobservant to notice that she has a large switchblade in her sock."

“No way!” Jesper craned his head to get a better look. “I’ll be damned. What’s she carrying that around for in a nice neighborhood like this?” 

Nina rolled her eyes. “Isn’t it obvious? I’d say that boss of hers is a real piece of work. Dressing her like Baby’s First Schoolgirl Fetish.” At the others’ blank looks, she scoffed, “oh come on. The boy gets to wear clothes it’s convenient to work in, but her shoes alone are a slipping hazard waiting to happen. Whoever chooses the uniforms around here has a very different agenda in mind.” 

The boys mulled this over as Nina took a big bite from a burger. Her eyes rolled back in a pantomime of culinary ecstasy. “Oh holy carbohydrate gods,” she moaned. “This is _good.”_

Curiously, Jesper lifted a hot dog piled high with sauerkraut and gave it an enthusiastic bite. His reaction mirrored Nina’s. “Damn.” 

Nina nudged Kaz’s knee with her own. Though the fabric of his pants prevented any skin contact, he still pulled away and shot her a sour look. She ignored this. “Eat something, Brekker, before I eat all of it.” 

“We didn’t come for the food.” 

“Well, we didn’t come for you to look like a skulking windowless-van creepster either, yet here we are. Put some cheesecake in your face.” 

Early-bird diners were starting to file in; older folks who likely had a bedtime of five PM sharp after enjoying a few reruns of _Murder She Wrote._ They ordered, sat, and were served food and the trio mentally logged the timing down to the last second- all information that would come in handy later on. They were just cleaning up their wrappers when the waitress in green returned, a funny expression on her face. 

“For you,” she said, setting a small bowl of chocolate softserve in front of Nina. It was covered in rainbow sprinkles and garnished with a small shortbread cookie. 

Nina arched a perfectly drawn eyebrow. “I didn’t order ice cream,” she said. 

“No,” agreed Inej. “Compliments of the chef for, and I am quoting here, _‘The most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life.’”_ She said this last part in a bad imitation of a European accent. 

Now both of Nina’s eyebrows had raisen into her hairline, and a pleased grin quirked her mouth. “That’s so sweet!” she squealed when Jesper rolled his eyes. “Bring him out here! Or her! I want to say thank you.” 

“That may be difficult,” Inej said. “He’s kind of married to his grill. Not the best people-person; he stays back there for a reason. But I’ll try.” She had a small, wry yet fond smile on her face that drew Kaz’s attention. He had a fleeting thought that it’d be interesting to see how a true laugh transformed her face, but dismissed it with a quick shake of his head. He hadn’t been getting much sleep lately. 

Nina cheerfully ate her ice cream, smacking the back of Jesper’s hand with her spoon when he attempted to sneak some. A minute later, Inej emerged, tugging on the arm of a tank of a blond man in his late twenties wearing a white cook’s uniform. She towed him all the way to their table and, though he was easily twice her size and looked very reluctant, he never pulled away. 

“Matthias, these people wanted to meet you,” she said. Glancing at Nina’s face, Kaz could tell she found the hulking, muscle-bound line cook attractive. Whatever she’d been expecting, this hadn’t been it. 

Jesper spoke first. “Great food, man,” he said. “Seriously top-notch; no wonder this place is so popular.” 

Though Matthias did not smile, his expression softened. “Thank you,” he said, and he did indeed have a faint Icelandic accent. “I take pride in my work.” 

As Nina began her flirtatious attack, Kaz watched Inej slip away to take care of some tables, deftly cleaning abandoned trays as she went. She moved with a fluid grace that suggested some athletic ability- a background in dance? Gymnastics? Self defense? 

An old man beckoned her closer and, as she bent to take his tray, his wrinkled old hand gripped the back of her slim brown thigh, slowly sliding up her short dress. Inej’s back stiffened and her right hand twitched. Kaz thought of the knife in her sock and strongly suspected she knew how to use it well. 

Though she spoke quietly, his sharp ears could just make out her low voice over the cumulative patron chatter. “You’ll remove your hand now, sir.” 

She was not afraid. Kaz could tell that much. There was steely resolve in her tone. A second later, the now sheepish-looking senior citizen did as she ordered. He’d clearly been looking for an easy target and was disappointed to find this woman was not going to take his abuse silently. 

Inej straightened and carried his tray off. When her profile was to him, Kaz could see the expression on her face, and knew that she was no stranger to this. She was a fighter, and he was intrigued. The second her back was turned, the old man slunk off dejectedly, head hanging low. 

So. This place was definitely more interesting than he’d initially thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one stemmed from joking around with my friend about "What if Kaz worked at McDonalds?" and the ensuing impressions of his terrifying stare and gravelly voice asking, "Do you want fries with that?" and the poor customer being too scared to say no that followed. Somehow, it evolved into this... whatever it is. As well as my own soul-crushing experiences working retail and food service.


	2. Hold the Mustard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pekka arrives; Matthias is afraid; and Wylan and Inej dream of bigger things.

It was nearly the end of their shift when Pekka finally made his unwelcome appearance. He strode in the doors exactly as though he owned the place, because, of course, he _did._ He spoke often about turning the Kaelish Prince into a chain, making his fortune off the fast food, but they all knew why he wouldn't. He liked the control he had over his little empire, and wouldn't be able to get away with half his stunts should more people get involved.

"Looking good," he purred to Inej's turned back as she scooped ice for the soda machine, causing her to jump. His voice always licked slimily over her, leaving an almost tangible residue no bath could quite wash away. 

She forced a smile. "Hello, Mr. Rollins." 

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me by my first name, silly girl?" He asked, cocking his head. "I thought we were friends, Inej." He leaned against the ice machine, effectively trapping her against the wall. She glanced around for an exit. 

"Mr. Rollins," Matthias called from across the kitchen. "Could you come here? I think there's a problem with one of the dials on the grill." 

The older man rolled his eyes and then turned around. Inej mouthed a silent, _"Thank you,"_ to Matthias before grabbing her bucket of ice and hastening out of the kitchen. _Silly girl_ indeed. 

She was seething so much that she barely registered the opening of the co-ed bathroom door until it narrowly avoided smacking her in the face. She took a quick step back and found herself face-to-face with the pale man who had accompanied the woman Matthias was so taken with. She took note of a long, thin scar trailing down his cheek to his jaw. He wasn't handsome, per se- average in height and build, eyes a deep brown- but he was interesting to look at. 

"Oh, excuse me," she said, recovering quickly. He didn't smile, but he did offer a nod of acknowledgement. 

"I should have looked where I was going," he said in a surprisingly deep voice. Though he wasn't much older than she, he walked with a cane. 

They didn't have much choice but to walk together through the narrow hallway and back to the main dining area. He looked so out of place here; a del Toro character in a Bryan Fuller setting. This close to Vegas, they did get the occasional odd patron, but he and his group were something else entirely. 

She turned to head for the soda machine, but stopped when she realized he was still _looking_ at her. Not in the way that most men watched her- there was no lust in his eyes- but in a peculiar, ponderous manner. He seemed as though he were waiting for something. 

"I have to ask," she said, and was unable to stop a small smile from working its way onto her face. "Do I know you from somewhere? You seem strangely familiar." 

"I don't think so. I'd certainly remember you." 

Inexplicably, this made her face feel warm. She cleared her throat and wondered just what to say to that. 

"Kaz!" 

The tall, skinny man who had flirted so outrageously with Wylan now waved a hand to catch his attention. 

Kaz excused myself and went back to their table. He braced a hand on the back of his chair to lean in close, and the woman called Nina began whispering urgently into his ear. Jesper put an arm around her shoulders, and Inej wondered if they were a couple who got their kicks out of hitting on other people. She felt a surge of protectiveness for Wylan and Matthias, and fought back a frown. 

The chime of coins falling distracted her as Muzzen, the line cook who took Matthias' place for the late shifts, entered. He gave her a quick smile and went to clock in, reminding her that she too would be leaving soon. 

She quickly dumped her ice into the soda machine, did another round amongst the tables, cleaning as she went, and when her replacement came in, she went to clock out as well. 

Pekka was standing at the register, holding a printed sheet of paper out and scolding Wylan. "I see you clocked in late today." 

Wylan cringed. "I'm so sorry, sir. My bus was late, and-" 

"I don't pay you to make excuses, Van Eck. I know you can't read, but are you trying to tell me you can't tell time, either?!" 

Wylan dropped his head, shamed into silence, and Inej's hands curled into fists. "Mr. Rollins-" she interjected, but was stopped when he held a hand up without so much looking at her. 

"Hush, sweetheart. Men are talking." 

Her jaw actually dropped. From across the room, she heard a snarl, and turned to see Nina staring at them with fire blazing in her green eyes. Jesper and Kaz, too, were watching the exchange. The former seemed pissed off; the latter, coolly observant. 

Pekka carried on, oblivious. "If this keeps happening, I'm going to have to let you go. And you know how difficult it would be for someone like _you_ to find employment elsewhere." 

"It won't happen again," Wylan stammered, looking panicked now, his already pale face going white underneath his freckles. "I promise-" 

"See to it that it doesn't." Pekka's attention was diverted by their tip cup, and the crisp fifty-dollar bill that sat prominently on the top of the coins. "What have we here?" 

Inej's heart sank in dread. He _always_ did this. She couldn't bear to watch as he widened his green coat pocket and dumped the entire cup in, then returned the empty Styrofoam to the counter. "Keep up the good work, kids," he said jovially. "That's a _nice_ bit of shine for your old boss there." 

He moved to pat Inej's shoulder as he passed, but she dodged him, and he glanced up in time to see an expression of true disgust on her face. 

"Don't be lookin' at me like that, girly," he said quietly, the edge of a threat in his voice making the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. "Y'don't want me givin' your Auntie Heleen a call, do you?" 

When Inej's naturally dark skin paled to an unhealthily ashy shade, he nodded. "S'what I thought." 

This time, when he patted her shoulder in passing, she did not move away. She remained stock still as he left the restaurant, until the rumble of his Humvee faded into the distance. Only then did she let out a heavy breath. 

Wylan was gazing anxiously at her face, and her attention snapped to his concerned blue eyes. "You okay, 'Nej?" he asked softly. She wasn't, but she forced a smile and a nod. 

"I'll go wait outside until Kuwei gets here," she said, and clocked out. Matthias walked next to her to the door, but was stopped by someone calling his name. 

At her table, Nina held out a napkin with her name and a phone number printed neatly in looping handwriting on it in red sharpie. The I had been dotted with a little heart. "In case you ever want _me_ to treat _you_ to ice cream." She batted her long eyelashes sweetly, and Inej reevaluated her earlier assumption that she'd only been humoring her friend. 

Twin patches of pink appeared high on Matthias' cheeks. He cleared his throat, looked away. "I can't," he said gruffly. To any who didn't know him well, he must have sounded dismissive, condescending. "Thank you though." 

"Can't or won't?" Nina looked hurt. 

Inej thought she understood. Nina was tall and plump; soft and curvy and smelling just slightly of gardenias. Her hands were unblemished, and her fingers were tipped with crimson French manicures. The ruby gem glinting on her naval probably cost more than his entire uniform. 

Matthias, on the other hand, was gruff and grizzled; he smelled only of frying grease, and he had a piece of what looked like iceberg lettuce stuck in the end of his blond ponytail. His hands were roughened with tiny scars on every finger and more than a few shiny burns on his forearms. 

Nina was, to his mind, okay to send a dessert of admiration to, but not to actually entertain the idea of courting. She was too far out of his league. 

Sighing internally, Inej extended her hand. "I'd like your number, if that's okay with you." 

Recovering quickly, Nina shot a poisonous glare Matthias' way. "Yes," she said, a bit stiffly. "I think I'd enjoy a date with _you_ more, anyway." 

Inej took the napkin, smiled softly, and took Matthias by the elbow, leading him back to his old but spotlessly clean pickup truck, strongly resisting the urge to give Kaz a final glance as they went. 

"Oh, Matthias," she sighed when they leaned their backs against the rust-colored metal. She reached to pluck the lettuce from his hair, let the night breeze whisk it out of her fingers. 

"What?" He still sounded irritable, so she said nothing more, content to stand by his side in silence. He was the kind of friend who didn't need to fill space with chatter, and she appreciated it. 

Wylan was with them not ten minutes later, climbing into the backseat of Matthias' truck and flopping back with a groan, flinging an arm over his eyes. "I'm so tired," he grumbled. "Those weird people wanted more food to go." 

"Weird people?" Inej asked, sliding into the passenger seat and buckling herself in. 

Wylan peeped out from under his arm, then pointed silently out the side window. Matthias, glancing over his shoulder, immediately bent half into the truck and immersed himself with rustling through the glove compartment for nothing in particular. 

Craning her neck, Inej saw Nina climb into the drivers' seat of a cherry-red convertible. Jesper held Kaz's cane for him until he was settled in the backseat, then handed it over before climbing into the passengers' seat himself with a bulging to-go bag bearing the Kaelish Prince logo. 

They pulled out of the parking lot and into the first side street that, Inej knew from experience, lead to the 70 towards Vegas. As they went, she saw a single bumper sticker just above the exhaust pipe, reading "I [heart] My Rescue Pugs." The heart was flipped upside down to resemble a paw print. 

"That guy was pretty weird, wasn't he?" Wylan asked, craning his neck to watch the convertible disappear into the orange slash of the setting sun. "Talking to me like he liked me, or whatever." 

Inej rolled her eyes. "Saints give me strength to handle my foolish friends." 

"Are you calling me foolish?" Matthias rumbled, finally getting into the drivers' seat and twisting the keys several times until the starter finally caught and the engine turned over. They all breathed a sigh of relief- the pickup was obstinate more often than not. Matthias shifted gears, craning his neck as he carefully backed up. 

"I am," Inej replied. "Because you are." 

"I suppose you're right," he said, with a thin smile. "Only a fool would accidentally make so much extra food that he'd have to take it home yet another time." 

Wylan whooped in joy and dove for Matthias' knapsack, producing a small pile of wrapped sandwiches. 

"Thank you, Matthias," Inej smiled so brightly she could feel her cheeks dimple. She knew he didn't like doing anything that felt dishonest, but disliked Pekka's treatment of them even more. 

He grunted, eyes on the road, but a small return smile twitched his lips anyway. 

Their ride home was a long and winding one, finally arriving near the university campus where Wylan and Inej lived in a house full of students. As per usual at this time of night, it was desolate with nothing more than beer cans scattered over the porch to show anyone had been there at all. 

"See you tomorrow," he said glumly, as they climbed from his car. 

"Give Lady our love!" 

Lady was Matthias' drooly, tank-sized hound; supposedly a bloodhound-mastiff mix, but they suspected she might also have some Great Dane, wolf, WWE heavyweight champion, monster truck, and possible dinosaur blood somewhere on her family tree as well. 

After Wylan had banged through their screen door in his haste to start on his dinner, Inej bent half-through the truck's window to finish their earlier conversation that had never properly begun at all. 

"Matthias, I really think you should give it a shot," she said softly, handing him the napkin with Nina's phone number. "Hey, you both have rescue dogs. Why not start with that?" 

He looked down at the napkin like she were offering him a poisonous insect, and after a moment's hesitation, she sighed and slipped it into his glove box. "Just think about it," she advised. "I want to see you happy." 

"What about you?" he asked gently. "When was the last time _you_ were happy?" 

Inej didn't have an answer to that, so she just wished him a good night and waved as he pulled out of their driveway, letting herself inside to be greeted with the smell of stale cat litter. 

Roar (Rorschach), the psych-major house owner's large tuxedo cat, twined around her ankles, meowing for food while his brother Ding (Schrödinger) peeped large moony eyes from his customary hiding spot on a high shelf. 

Inej frowned at the empty state of their food and water dishes and quickly remedied it. However well-meaning their intentions were, her housemates were never particularly responsible for anything. Case in point, the sink overflowing, once more, with dishes. 

Inej suppressed a groan. 

"I'll do dishes if you do laundry," Wylan supplied, already halfway through his second sandwich. 

"Fine." She stopped into their bedroom to finally strip off her hated uniform and shake her hair from its tight braid, emerging in a tatty t-shirt and Cookie Monster pajama bottoms and dragging their clothes basket behind her. 

Sitting down was a relief. Wylan had piled her fish sandwiches at her place- Matthias had made them just like she liked them, no mustard, extra greens- and when she clasped her hands to pray, Wylan, though not the religious type himself, politely set his sandwich down and bowed his head as well. 

She prayed to her saints as she always did, thanking them for another day, for good weather, for healthy bodies and warm food and a roof over their heads. She prayed that Wylan would pass his classes, that Matthias would return to his trailer safely, and, on a whim as focused brown eyes swam back into her memory, she prayed in gratitude for the generous strangers that had made their day more interesting. 

Wylan was watching her as she concluded her conversation with the saints and began munching on her dinner. "How come you never pray for yourself?" he asked. 

"I do," she said, between bites. "All day, every day. I'm always talking to the saints." 

He seemed to consider this for a moment. "Do they talk back?" 

"In a way. Not so much in words." 

When he finished eating and had put the rest of his food in the fridge, he began on the dishes. The moment he opened the dishwasher, Roar disappeared inside and he spent a few minutes coaxing him back out. "I swear we're the only ones who clean around here. Six roommates and only two do all the work." 

"Isn't that always the way?" Inej laughed. "Don't worry. When you graduate and are a rich and famous musician we can live in a mansion." 

"With slides instead of stairs." 

"And a batmobile for a car." 

"And no more Kaelish prince!" 

Inej raised the last of her sandwich in a toast to that, though she knew how unlikely such a scenario would ever be. As long as Pekka Rollins knew who she used to be, who she used to work _for,_ there was no escaping. Not for her. For Wylan, though... 

"You have any homework tonight?" she asked, and breathed a sigh of relief when he confirmed there was only chemistry. That, he could do on his own without needing her to read to him. It wasn't that she minded helping him, but she was _so_ tired... 

Her vision was beginning to blur, so she too put the rest of her food away for tomorrow and began sorting the laundry, taking a sock back from Ding when he made a run for it. "Pants!" she called, and a second later, Wylan had tossed his green uniform pants her way. She tried not to snicker at his star-patterned boxers over his skinny, pale legs, automatically sticking her hands into the pockets to pull out whatever was inside before dumping them into the machine. 

She stopped, stared at what was in her hand. "Wylan," she said quietly, and when he turned, she held up a folded, one-hundred dollar bill. "Where did you get this?" 

His eyes boggled. _"That_ was in my _pocket?!_ I, I swear I don't know!" He stopped to think, wracking his brain. Slowly, an incredulous light bloomed in his eyes. "It couldn't be- that guy smacked into me as we were leaving. The weird one." 

"The one who was flirting with you?" 

"No, the," Wylan's cheeks pinked at the reminder. "The other one. I didn't say anything because, you know, he was walking with a cane. I didn't want to be _rude_ and I figured it was an accident. Do you think that _he-"_

Inej recalled the angered way they'd watched Pekka insult them and take their tips, feeling a little swimmy and lightheaded. Good things like this just _didn't_ happen, not for her and Wylan. 

"I think," she said at last, voice a little dry. "I think I'm very glad I remembered to pray for them tonight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes on this AU (more for myself than anything else):  
> \- The Kaelish Prince is a weird combination of Burger King and Culvers wearing a phony-Irish hat. It's technically fast food, but they try to make it seem "fancy" by having servers bring food to the tables, etc. But since it's fast food, nobody is expected to tip, so. Kinda sucks. It's in a small suburban town close-ish to Vegas.  
> \- While they're all paid minimum wage, Matthias is the only full-time employee; Pekka keeps Inej just under 35 hours so he doesn't have to give her health insurance. Wylan still goes to high school part-time.  
> \- Wylan is 19, Inej is 24, and Matthias is 26.  
> \- This story is set in Nevada. Kaz, Jes, and Nina all have their own apartments in Vegas. Inej and Wylan share a room in a house with a bunch of UofN students. Matthias lives in a single-wide trailer with his doggo.
> 
> **** Story is indefinitely discontinued. I may resume it eventually but have no plans to do so at this time. ****

**Author's Note:**

> What is it about the 6OC that makes me want to keep writing AUs?  
> This one stemmed from joking around with my friend about "What if Kaz worked at McDonalds?" and the ensuing impressions of his terrifying stare and gravelly voice asking, "Do you want fries with that?" and the poor customer being too scared to say no that followed. Somehow, it evolved into this... whatever it is. ~~As well as my own soul-crushing experiences working retail and food service.~~
> 
> I hope you enjoy- let me know if you want me to continue in the comments. ((And come say hi to me on tumblr at mugsandpugs1 !)


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